


Open Sesame

by wheel_pen



Series: Daisy [37]
Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Naughtiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 15:48:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/800424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The gang experiments with ways for Stefan and Damon to temporarily enter a human’s house, per Daisy’s research. “You’re like a mad scientist crossed with a Nazi theatre director.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Open Sesame

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Daisy, my original character, moved to Mystic Falls about a year ago. There is something special about her.
> 
> 2\. This series begins with the first season of the TV show and completely diverges about halfway through the first season. Facts revealed later on the show might not make it into this series.
> 
> 3\. Underage warning: This series may contain human or human-like teenagers, in high school, in sexual situations.
> 
> 4\. The bad words are censored. That’s just how I do things.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this AU. I own nothing and appreciate being able to play in this universe.

            “I’m not so sure about this,” Bonnie said for perhaps the seventeenth time.

            “Stefan wouldn’t hurt you,” Elena assured her. She turned to me. “Maybe we ought to leave Damon out.” Bonnie _did_ look somewhat in favor of that idea.

            But I shook my head. “The point of this exercise is to show that they can be invited in without compromising anyone’s safety,” I reminded them, for perhaps the eighteenth time. “It’s temporary, it’s safe—“

            “It’s like a rub-on tattoo!” Damon called from the front porch, on the other side of the door.

            Several of us rolled our eyes, then I gave Bonnie an expectant look. It was her decision. But anywhere else we chose to practice would involve some serious mindwiping, and I didn’t think most of us wanted to do that (Damon was okay with it, though). Bonnie’s house was the only one the boys hadn’t been invited into, of the people ‘in the know.’ Despite her friendship with them—well, with Stefan at least—the omission was deliberate.

            “Okay,” she finally agreed reluctantly.

            I smiled encouragingly and opened the door so Stefan and Damon could officially be part of the conversation. “Here,” I went on, pulling out two thin stacks of index cards I’d made. I handed one to Bonnie and one to Stefan, and braced myself.

            “Oh my G-d,” Damon said, looking over Stefan’s shoulder. “You made _little cards_. They’re color-coordinated!”

            “There’s a certain amount of precision needed the first time,” I explained, trying not to let him get me defensive. “We only have two chances to really get it right.”

            “What does ‘H’ stand for?” Damon wanted to know, pointing at the card where I had designated the two speakers ‘H’ and ‘V.’

            “Human,” Stefan replied, then glanced at me. “I was assuming…” I indicated yes.

            “She’s _not_ human,” Damon countered, as though it should be obvious why he asked. “She’s a witch.” Elena and Bonnie rolled their eyes. “I’m not getting invited in by witches.”

            “No, you’re not!” Bonnie shot back tartly.

            I did see his point. “I don’t think it has any bearing on the matter, though,” I assured him. Besides, we didn’t have too many other options. “Bonnie, if you could refrain from doing anything magical—“

            “I wasn’t planning on it,” she replied primly. “But just remember, I can turn you into a charcoal briquette.” This was clearly aimed at Damon.

            “Don’t worry, if Stefan tries anything, you can count on me to stop him,” Damon said solemnly in return, hooking his arm around his brother’s neck playfully. Stefan rolled his eyes and shoved Damon back so he could focus.

            “Let’s go over the scenarios,” I redirected. Bonnie and Elena dutifully glanced at the index cards. So did Stefan, although he had perfect recall of what they said. Damon yawned, feigning boredom for the others’ benefit. The entire exercise was mostly for him and I knew he was keenly interested—all the more reason, in his mind, to make a show of not caring. “Scenario 1. Bonnie opens the door and Stefan tries to enter without invitation.”

            “To establish that I can’t,” Stefan surmised.

            I nodded. “Scenario 2.” They all flipped the cards. “Bonnie opens the door and says her line. Please, don’t say the lines out of context, I don’t want to mess anything up,” I warned.

            “You’re like a mad scientist crossed with a Nazi theatre director,” Damon commented. He sounded appreciative.

            “Why doesn’t Stefan say anything in Scenario 2?” Elena wanted to know.

            “To see if Bonnie’s line constitutes an entry permission on its own,” I explained to her. “It shouldn’t—that’s the point—but I doubt the Council has had the opportunity to really test it. Scenario 3,” I went on. “Bonnie says her line and Stefan says his. Any questions?”

            “I think it’s pretty clear,” Stefan assured me thoughtfully. “It sounds very thorough.” Marvelously, he was completely non-patronizing. Bonnie and Elena nodded in agreement.

            “Why is Stefan going first?” Damon complained, to everyone’s exasperation. “What am I, his understudy?”

            I stepped out on the porch and he wisely backed up upon seeing my expression. “I have something _special_ in mind for _your_ turn,” I told him, with just a hint of menace. “But you’d better not do anything to mess this up.” He made a face in response, which I took to indicate agreement under protest.

            I went back inside and positioned myself beside the door. “Everyone ready? Okay. Scenario 1.”

            Bonnie shut the door, then opened it again to find Stefan standing there expectantly. “Uh, hi, Stefan,” she said awkwardly.

            “Hello, Bonnie,” he answered politely. “How are you this afternoon?”

            “Were we supposed to have a scene prepared?” Damon interrupted obnoxiously from ‘off‑stage.’ “I could do a monologue from _Cat on a Hot Tin Roof_.”

            “Quiet,” I told him. I gave Stefan the nod and he tried to cross the threshold. It was like watching someone do an ‘invisible wall’ mime act.

            “Well, that seems to work,” Stefan observed. Damon tapped at the barrier with a finger as if testing it himself, and I reached through it and smacked his hand down.

            “How come _you_ don’t have to be invited into places?” he wanted to know, sounding a bit petulant.

            “Loophole in the supernatural bureaucracy,” I shot back. The others ignored what they considered a joke on his part, fortunately. “Scenario 2.”

            Bonnie shut the door on Stefan and opened it again. Then she glanced down at her index card for the line. “If you are able, come in.” Once again, Stefan tried to cross the threshold. And once again, he was stopped. This result seemed more interesting to people.

            “It sounds like an invitation to _me_ ,” Elena admitted.

            “But it’s conditional,” Stefan realized. “I can only come in _if_ something else.”

            “But what if she said, ‘Come in, _if_ you’re willing to take out the trash,’” Damon suggested. “That’s conditional, too. And that’s never stopped me.”

            “Who would invite you in just to take out their trash?” Elena wanted to know.

            “That was a G-rated example,” Damon claimed. “Usually it’s desperate housewives who want me to—“

            “Let’s do Scenario 3,” I interrupted, to most people’s relief, “and then we’ll discuss the results.”

            “I love it when you’re bossy,” Damon offered. I gave him a narrow look, refusing to be derailed.

            Bonnie shut the door, then opened it once more. “If you are able, come in.”

            This time Stefan said his line. “I pledge not to harm anyone within these walls.” And he stepped into the foyer.

            Elena hugged him as though he’d accomplished some difficult feat. “So now he can come in,” Bonnie observed, not necessarily excited about this.

            “But, he can’t harm you while inside,” I reminded her.

            “Not that he would’ve anyway,” Elena defended.

            “What about _me_?” Damon demanded, pressing against the barrier that kept him alone outside.

            “In a minute,” I promised. “Let’s do Scenario 1 over again.” They all looked at me dubiously, but Stefan stepped back out onto the porch. “Just try to come in again.”

            He attempted to retrace the two steps he’d just taken and found that—he couldn’t. “It’s—not working,” he remarked in surprise.

            “Loser,” Damon snorted.

            “But he’s been in,” Bonnie protested in amazement.

            “Only on a temporary condition,” I pointed out, feeling quite satisfied that this was working as I had predicted. “Stefan, say your line.”

            “I pledge not to harm anyone within these walls,” he repeated. But he still couldn’t get in.

            “Well why didn’t _that_ work?” Damon asked in surprise.

            “It’s a two-part transaction,” I explained. “Bonnie invites with a condition, and Stefan accepts that condition to enter—each time. It doesn’t work unless both parts occur.”

            “So both people have to know what’s going on?” Elena suggested.

            “Well, the human doesn’t necessarily have to understand the implications of what they’re saying,” I mused. “Just like they don’t when they invite a vampire in _without_ conditions and find that they have no control over his behavior, and can’t keep him out again. It’s really more the vampire knowing the right response.” Bonnie nodded soberly, fully aware of the implications of the invitations herself.

            “Where did you find these words?” Stefan asked curiously.

            “Research,” I answered vaguely. “I don’t think it has to be those _exact_ words. It’s the intent that’s important. Bonnie could say, ‘If you promise not to hurt anyone, you can come in,’ and Stefan could reply, ‘I agree to that,’ for example.”

            “Let’s test that,” Bonnie suggested, so we did. Stefan made it inside.

            “It’s probably best to start with the ‘if,’” I suggested, “just to be safe. Then add the ‘come in’ after the condition.”

            “But why does ‘if you are able’ work?” Elena asked, as Damon was once again left standing impatiently alone on the porch. “That’s pretty vague. It doesn’t even mention not hurting people.”

            “It’s implied,” I decided. “I think fear of bodily harm would be the main concern with a supernatural creature such as a vampire.”

            “As opposed to stealing the flat screen TV,” Damon cracked. “So, no protection against a kleptomaniac vampire, is what you’re saying. Or one who gives bad stock tips.”

            “Or makes tasteless jokes,” Stefan pointed out.

            “Scenario 1, please,” I prompted, trying to keep everyone on track. Without warning Damon launched himself at the open doorway, startling those inside the house. They got to snicker when he bounced off the invisible barrier and sat down hard on the porch, however.

            “That works,” he confirmed dryly, picking himself back up.

            “Scenario 2,” I directed. “Let Bonnie do the door this time, okay?”

            She shut the door, then paused a long moment, seemingly in no hurry to open it again. Finally I cleared my throat and she acquiesced.

            Damon lounged against the doorjamb. “Strip-o-gram for Bonnie Bennett,” he announced.

            “Wrong address,” she sneered. “Take it to the old-folks’ home down the block.”

            “Line!” he prompted snidely, as if he were burdened by her improv.

            “If you are able, come in,” Bonnie ground out.

            “Thanks,” Damon muttered. “I hope you—“ He bounced off the invisible barrier and staggered, like he’d walked into a sliding glass door. “Ow,” he complained, rubbing his nose.

            “You knew it wouldn’t work,” Stefan reminded him.

            “I thought maybe positive thinking would get past that,” he claimed.

            “Scenario 3.” The true test.

            Bonnie looked suddenly nervous about this part, but she closed and opened the door to find Damon smirking in anticipation on the other side. Finally she said her line again. “I pledge not to harm anyone within these walls,” Damon recited, ending it with an evil cackle. He started to walk forward—and hit the barrier again, much to everyone’s surprise. “What the f—“

            “You didn’t _mean_ it,” I informed him smugly.

            “Well of _course_ I didn’t mean it!” he snapped, trying to force his way in anyway. It was oddly hilarious, watching him push madly on something no one else could see—and which the rest of us could reach through. “You didn’t tell _Stefan_ to mean it!”

            “Stefan meant it _already_ ,” Elena pointed out primly.

            “So, you _were_ planning to harm me?” Bonnie asked coldly.

            “Not _planning_ ,” Damon insisted. “But it might happen. You never know.”

            “Well in _this_ case,” I explained to them, “you _do_ have to mean it. Temporarily, anyway.” Damon made a noise of frustration. “Come on, it’s just for a few seconds, then you’ll leave again,” I promised.

            He closed his eyes for a second, as if he had to steel himself to make this sincere agreement. “Okay.”

            I nodded at Bonnie. “If you are able, come in,” she said with a smirk.

            Damon opened his eyes. “I promise I won’t hurt anybody,” he ad-libbed, and stepped over the threshold. “Ha ha, yes!” he celebrated, looking around for congratulations. No one else seemed terribly impressed with his achievement, however.

            “Now try to hurt someone,” I told him.

            “ _What?!_ ” said several voices in shock. Damon didn’t need further prompting, however, and he turned to Elena, baring his fangs.

            Well, he _would_ have bared his fangs, but the fangs didn’t appear. And he _would_ have leaped at her, but he seemed glued to the spot. So instead of pouncing on Elena and biting her, he merely staggered and sounded like he was coughing up a hairball.

            “Wow,” said Bonnie.

            “I can’t move,” Stefan snapped.

            “That’s because you’d like to hurt Damon right now,” I deduced, “which would go against the pledge you made.”

            “I take it back, I take it back,” Damon tried, throwing himself in his brother’s direction. He and Stefan collapsed harmlessly on the floor, pawing at the air near each other like a parody of a wussy girl fight. Bonnie, Elena, and I found it pretty hilarious.

            The boys, not so much. “Doesn’t this mean Stefan can’t swoop in and rescue you if you get into trouble?” Damon asked Elena petulantly, standing.

            “It just means he can’t _hurt_ someone doing it,” Elena countered wisely. She whacked Damon’s arm for good measure. “ _That’s_ for trying to hurt me!”

            “Ow, it was Daisy’s idea,” Damon blamed, rubbing his arm. “No, really. Ow,” he repeated after a moment, amazement creeping over his features. “Slap me,” he told Elena with excitement. “Come on, do it! Do I really have to think of some cheap insult—“ Elena slapped him without hesitation. His face snapped sideways and when he turned back, there was a distinct red mark on his cheek. He ran to the mirror above the mantle to examine it. “Wow,” he breathed.

            Stefan was equally astounded. “It’s like you’re—“ He swallowed the words suddenly, but I could guess them: _human again_. And then he realized the same restrictions would apply to him and his eyes flickered to Elena, no doubt thinking of all the things they could do more safely if he were human again.

            “You’re still vampires,” I hastened to point out. “You should still have greater speed, strength, hearing. You just can’t use those abilities to hurt anyone in the house.”

            “This is _fantastic_ ,” Damon declared, still fascinated by the results of Elena’s slap.

            “How?” Bonnie asked in confusion.

            “I could get invited to a Council party, pick a fight with someone, and let him punch me,” Damon plotted gleefully. “A bloody nose would pretty much cement my status as human.”

            “Well just make sure it’s nothing more than a bloody nose,” I warned him. “Because you might be vulnerable to other injuries just like a human is.”

            “Let’s test that,” Bonnie suggested innocently.

            Damon glared at her. “It’s just temporary, right?” he insisted to me. “I mean, I can go back outside and—“ He whooshed back onto the porch and turned his face towards us. “Is the mark gone? It doesn’t sting anymore.”

            The mark was indeed gone. And Damon was quite excited about this, perhaps even more than Bonnie—until he forgot himself and tried to reenter the house, only to stumble awkwardly. “I suggest not attending backyard barbecues under this method,” I told him dryly. “They’ll get pretty suspicious when they have to invite you in seven times during _one_ party.”

            “Yeah, well, they’ll _also_ get pretty suspicious when I declare that I won’t hurt anyone,” he noted. “Won’t that tip them off?”

            “At the least it would seem odd,” I allowed. “So let’s do Scenario 3 again, only this time don’t say the words out loud. Just think them. And mean it.”

            “Okay.”

            “If you are able, come in,” Bonnie said. Damon blinked at her for a moment, then sailed in. “Oh, I don’t like that at all!” she protested as Damon celebrated. “Why should _that_ work?”

            “The fact that he was able to come in shows that he’s accepted your conditions,” I speculated. “ _If_ you knew to look for that. If you were used to guests being human and just saying your own words as a formality, you wouldn’t know any different.”

            “This is _perfect_ ,” Damon decided, with a touch of wicked glee.

            “It’s not _perfect_ ,” Stefan cautioned. “We’ll still have to be careful. And they might have other ways of testing people, too.” Elena hugged him close in concern.

            Damon shrugged those warnings off. “I’ll deal with it,” he said. “This is gonna help a lot,” he told me appreciatively, scooping me up with an evil grin. “ _Open sesame_.”


End file.
